


First Impressions

by ultragirlvfr750



Series: Reboot The Closer [1]
Category: The Closer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 02:22:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3340034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultragirlvfr750/pseuds/ultragirlvfr750
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My interpretation on what really happened after the Pilot episode</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Impressions

It was late by the time Brenda finally dragged herself back to the hotel and into the bar. She’d promised herself one glass of merlot and she didn’t fancy drinking alone in her room.

The lounge was dimly lit and Brenda chose a stool next to the bar’s only other patron. Normally Brenda would have preferred to sit by herself but tonight after dealing with the stench of death and the blatant hostility of her subordinates, the Deputy Chief wanted the company of another living being, even if they simply sat in silence.

She motioned for the bartender as she settled in, crossing her legs, one kitten heel dangling loosely off her foot and stole a glance at the woman next to her.

She was wearing a severely tailored suit and Brenda could see the outline of her long, lean leg against the fabric of her skirt. Her ankles were crossed, almost primly, her feet clad in impressively tall stilettos. Her glossy hair, the colour of dark chocolate fell forward, obscuring the features of her face. 

Clearly nursing her drink, the woman lifted a cut glass tumbler to her lips and took a delicate sip of the amber liquid.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

“A huge glass of merlot,” Brenda sighed.

“That kind of day?” the woman’s voice matched her appearance, rich and measured. 

She twitched her hair back and and Brenda was staring into a pair of intense emerald eyes, softened only slightly by the lenses of her black designer frames.

“Worse,” Brenda replied shortly. “New job and already I’m dealin’ with general incompetence, male subordinates who I just know are gonna be havin’ a hard time respectin’ my authority, and the added pleasure of inadvertently bein’ called a “bitch”.”

The bartender deposited Brenda’s wine in front of her and she took a long swallow, closing her eyes as the alcohol hit her system.

“Welcome to LA,” the brunette lifted her tumbler and Brenda touched it with the rim of her glass. “Bitch on your first day out. Impressive. If you don’t mind my asking, how did you deal with it?”

“I excused myself because my Momma always taught me to be polite,” Brenda replied, “used his rank deliberately to put him in his place, and then told him that if I wanted to be called a bitch to my face that I’d still be married.”

The other woman quirked an eyebrow and raised her glass again, this time in salute.

“I’ll have to file that one away. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of opportunities to use it.”

She half turned in her chair to face Brenda, an enigmatic smile playing across her lips. The smile didn’t quite reach her eyes and as Brenda held the brunette’s gaze she shivered. Her green eyes were piercing, almost mesmerizing and Brenda was astonished to feel her cheeks flush as she looked away first.

Brenda fiddled with the corner of the napkin under her drink. She never looked away first.

“I’m Sharon,” the brunette slid her hand forward.

“Brenda,” the Deputy Chief took it, slightly bemused by the softness of the other woman’s hand so at odds with the steel in her grip.

“So what’s the new position that brings you to LA?”

Brenda unconsciously sat up a little straighter and blew an errant curl out of her eyes.

“I’m workin’ for the LAPD.”

Sharon’s eyes widened for just a moment.

“I’m headin’ up a new Homicide Division, dealin’ with high profile cases. Tryn’ to help the city not get sued so much, I guess,” she laughed. “They gave it some swishy name, Priority Murder Squad. I think it was just a fancy way of gettin’ around bringin’ in an outsider as a Deputy Chief.”

“Sounds important. Congratulations.” The other woman’s voice was a low purr and Brenda thought idly that she could make a killing doing 1-900 work.

“You realize the name is going to give you no end of trouble?,” she continued.

“How so?” Brenda squinted.

“As an acronym,” Sharon explained, “Priority Murder Squad. You know, P M S.”

“Oh for Heaven’s sake,” Brenda stared at her horrified and then she couldn’t help herself, she giggled.

Her giggles turned into laughter, eliciting a small chuckle from the woman beside her.

“I’d make changing that my first priority,” Sharon said drily.

At that Brenda burst into fresh gales of laughter and the other woman joined in, her eyes lit up, for the first time in the conversation with real amusement.

She inhaled deeply, trying to bring herself under control, sweeping her thick hair over one shoulder, and gave Brenda a genuine smile.

Brenda felt her breath catch in her throat and her mouth fell open slightly before she quickly snapped it closed. With a stern expression Sharon was gorgeous, but the moment she smiled she was utterly captivating.

“Priority Murder Squad,” she huffed, “Trust me, I’ll be addressin’ that tomorrow mornin’ first thing. And what about you?” Brenda asked. “I can’t imagine you’re sittin’ here havin’ a drink, alone, at,” she glanced at her watch, “nine-thirty on a Wednesday evenin’ because everythin’s all peaches n cream. Anythin’ you wanna unload on a sympathetic stranger?”

She waggled her wine glass in Sharon’s direction.

“Nothing earth shattering, really. Just the daily grind of being universally hated while enforcing the rules,” she tried to keep her voice light but Brenda could hear a hint of bitterness laced through her words.

“That bad, huh?” Brenda reached over and covered the other woman’s hand with hers and squeezed it lightly before bringing it back to rest on the bar in front of her.

“Imagine wrangling a bunch of macho adrenaline junkies who firmly believe a woman’s place is in the kitchen, and should certainly never be given the power to investigate them for misconduct.”

Sharon’s green eyes flashed and Brenda had no doubt that any man who underestimated her authority was probably making a huge mistake.

“Here’s to wranglin’, then,’ Brenda raised her wineglass. 

“Indeed,” Sharon mimicked, but her glass was empty.

“Let me buy you another drink,” Brenda said impetuously.

The other woman hesitated.

“Just one,” Brenda pressed, “ I owe you. For pointin’ out that awful title. You probably saved my career, or at least minimized the amount I’m gonna be laughed at over the next six months. It’s the least I can do.”

“All right,” Sharon nodded slowly, “Bourbon. Neat.”

Brenda waved the bartender over, ordering Sharon’s drink and another merlot for herself, settling the check so she wouldn’t be tempted to order yet a third glass of wine.

The two women fell into a companionable silence, each replaying the days losses and victories.

“Looks like you could use a little company,” a male voice intruded.

Brenda leaned forward and caught sight of man with a ruddy complexion, the button on his suit jacket straining slightly against his midriff, deposit himself on the stool next to her new-found companion. 

“Why don’t you let Phil here buy you a drink?”

Brenda wrinkled her nose in distaste and waited to see how Sharon would react.

Brenda felt rather than saw Sharon’s shoulders imperceptibly deflate before she drew herself up with a sharp inhale. In an instant her relaxed demeanor hardened and she was again the guarded woman full of sharp edges that Brenda had met earlier in the evening.

Later, Brenda would tell herself it was because of that slight deflation, the universal female reaction before steeling oneself to ward off unwanted attention, of readying oneself for an inevitable and protracted verbal battle that emboldened her to do what she did next.

Before she had time to consider her actions she half-turned and stood, leaning her body against the brunette’s shoulder. In one languid movement she gathered Sharon’s glossy hair in one hand and slid it away from her face to expose the long column of her neck. Brenda trailed her lips along the older woman’s jawline, inhaling the light scent of vanilla and underneath the darker smell of musk.

Sharon stiffened beneath her and then gave way to Brenda’s touch, leaning her body back into Brenda’s chest.

Brenda raised her head and caught the interloper’s eyes in a challenging stare at the same time directing her questions to her dark-haired companion.

“What do you think? You feelin’ lonely?”

Brenda could feel the woman’s shoulders shake as she bit back her laughter.

“I think we’ve got it covered,” her voice flowed like rich molasses.

Brenda thought it would end there but Sharon surprised her by cupping her cheek with her free hand, tilting her head away from the offending man, her lips ghosting across the diminutive blonde’s. It was barely a kiss and yet Brenda’s heart began trip-hammering in her chest as she closed her eyes and leaned in.

Sharon grazed her thumb over Brenda’s bottom lip, her breath against the younger woman’s cheek. She applied the smallest amount of pressure, just enough to part Brenda’s lips and then Brenda felt her sigh and tasted the sweet tang of bourbon as Sharon’s mouth captured hers.

The kiss felt as though it would go on forever. 

Brenda instinctively darted her tongue inside Sharon’s mouth and she felt the brunette moan against her, winding her delicate fingers through Brenda’s soft curls. Sharon nipped at Brenda’s bottom lip and the blonde answered by biting back and tipping her head to the side, using her teeth and her lips to leave a trail of kisses along Sharon’s neck.

“Fucking dykes!”

The disgust in his voice and the flurry of activity as their unwanted intruder heaved himself backward off the bar stool broke Brenda’s reverie and it was with real regret that she pulled herself away from the dusky taste of Sharon’s skin.

“You’re serving a couple of fucking dykes here, you know that,” he shot at the bartender and then glared balefully at them as he backed away.

“You’re what’s ruining this country!” He turned on his heel and stalked out of the bar.

Sharon and Brenda looked at one another for a long moment and then broke into peals of laughter. Brenda laughed until tears were leaking out of her eyes and Sharon was bent over, one arm clutching the bar for support.

“Apparently, you’re what’s ruinin’ this country,” Brenda howled, pointing at Sharon.

“Me!” Sharon snorted, “Oh no honey, you’re the femme fatale coming up here with your sexy drawl and your winsome Southern ways. Clearly it’s you who’s a danger to this city.”

As their laughter died down Brenda found herself stealing sidelong glances at the brunette, her face flushed and her heart racing far too hard. The kiss had obviously been a ploy but now that she’d experienced it Brenda found herself dealing with a welter of emotions, none the least of which was the overwhelming desire to kiss Sharon again.

They walked together, the silence awkward now, out of the bar and into the lobby.

Brenda turned to the other woman and impulsively grabbed her hands, interlacing their fingers. Sharon raised her eyebrows but she didn’t pull away as Brenda’s voice came out in a rush.

“My night was horrible and I wasn’t expectin’ it to end so……so well,” she finished lamely. “Thank you.” 

She dropped Sharon’s hands, half expecting her to turn and leave but the brunette moved closer instead and lifted her hand to wind her fingers through a lock of hair curling against Brenda’s cheek.

“I can’t speak to any of your other skills but I can certainly say that the head of the new Priority Murder Squad is a damn fine kisser.”

Brenda’s cheeks flamed but she held Sharon’s eyes.

“You’re not so bad yourself……Sharon….,” she paused, “I don’t even know your last name.”

“Raydor,” the other woman smiled, “Captain Sharon Raydor of the LAPD. FID. Wicked witch of the department at your service,” her voice was teasing but the bitterness was back and Brenda suddenly wanted to pull the other woman to her in a crushing embrace.

She settled for a lopsided smile and reached up to grasp the other woman’s hand that was still fingering Brenda’s hair.

“I can’t say I’d be lookin’ forward to seein’ you in a professional capacity then, if what I saw tonight is any indication of the general competence level of my new officers, I can imagine you’re swamped for business.”

Sharon dropped her hand but Brenda wouldn’t let go, gripping the Captain’s fingers fiercely.

“But I’m stayin’ here, at the hotel. For the foreseeable future. Until I can get settled ’n all. I don’t suppose you’d like to have dinner?”

“Given the amount of trouble we can get into in a bar do you think it’s advisable to visit a restaurant?” Sharon’s voice was stern but a small smile quirked at the corner of her lips.

“Are you tellin’ me the Captain of a Force Investigation Department doesn’t know how to handle a little trouble?” Brenda drawled, moving inexorably closer to Sharon until they were almost touching.

"Perhaps we can meet tomorrow night then?” Sharon asked, "here in the lobby, say seven?"

Once again Brenda was surrounded by the scent of vanilla and musk and she shivered.

Before Sharon could turn to go Brenda leaned in and quickly kissed her on the mouth. It was light, her lips barely brushing the brunette’s, but it was a kiss and left no room for interpretation.

“Til tomorrow,” she breathed.

“Tomorrow,” Sharon whispered in her ear and abruptly she turned on her heel, heading toward the automatic doors at the entrance of the hotel.

Brenda watched her go, unable to move, until the other woman was no longer in view and it wasn’t until she turned toward the elevators that she realized she hadn’t even gotten the Captain’s number.

She raised her fingers absently to her lips as if the touch alone could conjure up the brunette’s impetuous kiss. She could almost smell the lingering scent of vanilla and she smiled.

Maybe Los Angeles wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I am tentatively going to file this as a series. I imagined it first as a one-shot but after completing it I had a eureka moment where I wondered - "what would the first 4 seasons of The Closer universe have looked like with Sharon in it right from the very beginning? Would it be possible to weave her in and out of the episodes?" With that in mind I will try valiantly to actually continue on with this idea. Updating may be sporadic but I will try and see how far I can get.


End file.
